T-bone laughed. “No problems, Lo. Shelly knows the gig inside out. Talk at you when you and Rick get back.”
Lo turned to me after Bone disconnected. “That was one smart damn hire, Rick. I may have to overlook a few of your flaws for getting Bone on board.”
“Bone is one of the plusses in Cantelli Land. That’s for sure. Let’s hope Suero doesn’t spoil this for us when she arrives.”
* * *
Bret Mesker arrived in full FBI, red faced rage before Suero unfortunately. He stormed over to us, waving off Francone, bypassing the EMT’s doing triage, and marching right up in my face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Cantelli? You’re not running FBI operations, you arrogant prick. How dare you have an FBI agent in charge placed in custody. I don’t-”
Mesker was out of touch, but he torqued off my reality in a big way. “Shut the fuck up, you moron! Maybe it would have been a good idea to get the facts before you stormed over here to piss all over what you people hired us to do!”
I snatched the fist he threw, and rotated it in a manner where Mesker was on his knees in pain, with both Lo and Trish enjoying the moment. “You are such an idiot. Learn the facts before you launch! I’m going to let you go. Make another move, and I will ruin your day, asshole!”
Mesker stood up warily as I released him. “You set Conus up! How did you do it?”
In my younger days, I’d have stomped all over this dweeb - not physically, but calling him every name in the book, making him out to be the dumbest person on planet earth. I put my arm around him instead, with Lo and Trish following us with avid interest as I guided him over to where they held Conus.
“I know you’re trying to be loyal, Agent Mesker, but you’re wasting your time. Agent Conus already has asked for a deal to keep him out of prison, and name dropped a new Columbian Cartel trying to gain a foothold here: the Tairona Cartel. You know what that means, right?” I was shaking my head violently at Lo, who was ready to cackle my nice guy plan into the dust. She and Trish stifled themselves and turned away.
Mesker’s shoulders slumped. “I…I can’t believe it. He’s FBI hierarchy. This…this is insane.”
This from a guy who works for the Department of Justice, the most politically auctioned off department in American history. Instead of sending Diogenes in there with a lamp looking for an honest man, I’d like to send in Al Capone… or Lo with a propane torch and pliers looking for the truth. I know… Hooterville off track once again.
“It’s something you have to face, my friend. We’re not your enemy. Before Conus used a signal jammer on us, we have video of him arriving at the warehouse with the bad guys. Agent Conus was using you and Agent Suero to cover up a drug pipeline from the East. That’s just a fact. What you do now that you know the truth is what’s important.”
Mesker nodded his head, unable to look at either Conus or me. “I have to think about this. Thanks… thanks for understanding, Cantelli.”
“No problem. If I see Agent Suero first, I’ll send her over.”
He lifted a hand in acknowledgement as he walked away.
“Why the hell are you being nice to that birdbrain?!” Lo had me by the ear, and getting ready to shake it out of me.
“What possible good is it for me to antagonize any more FBI agents, Lo? We’re trying to get clear of this, not put someone else on our back trail.”
Trish sighed in a decidedly disappointed manner. “Hooterville’s right, Lo. I wanted to see Rick break something on the guy, but for what?”
“Damn it!” Lo released my ear. “Of course you’re right… hey, there’s Suero.”
Rita talked with our police sergeant friend for more than five minutes before spending another five on her phone. We waited where we were, out of the way. She saw us and walked over. “I guess there’s not much of a mystery about this part of the case. You were right about Conus. I’ve already contacted the DOJ about possible infiltration of this new Tairona Cartel. They will alert our operatives on the East Coast. I’ll talk to Mesker, and we’ll take Conus with us while other agents take Jamison. Is there anything any of you would like to suggest?”
“Best protect Conus and Jamison,” Lo replied. “Keep them in a dungeon until you interrogate the hell out of them, make your deals, and get video of it all. It’s best not to underestimate this new cartel, kid.”
Rita nodded. “Thank you. I will do exactly that. You’re all free to go. I’d like any video you managed to get before Conus used the jammer the Sergeant told me about. If you could write up an incident report, I’ll read it over, and only contact you again if I have questions.”
“Lo’s right about not underestimating this new bunch. Grow eyes in the back of your head, and don’t take a single thing for granted involved in this case. These cartels have enough money to buy off whole governments. This is where you find out who your friends are at the Bureau. I think your buddy Mesker is someone you’ll be able to depend on. Watch each other’s back until you know all the players in this game.”
“We will, Rick.”
We watched her walk toward where Mesker was leaning against a tire rack by himself. “Boy, I don’t envy that stupid job. In a world where nearly everyone is for sale, trying to stop a drug cartel with unlimited funds redefines the cliché ‘pissing into the wind’.”
Lo was staring speculatively at Trish. She noticed. “How come you’re eyeballin’ me, Granny?”
“You ever take a hit on a fed?”
“Hell no. That’s a sucker gig left to third world goons with nothing to lose.” Trish grinned, looking in a faraway manner for a moment. “I was offered a hit on a Mossad agent once for a million bucks, half payable up front, from a Saudi Arabian oil exec. I don’t know how the hell he found out the agent’s name. That’s an agency that doesn’t exist until you screw with them.”
“Well, Skipper, what did you do?”
“I turned everything I had over to the Mossad through an Israeli diplomat in London where I was at the time. Then, I got the hell out of Europe. I haven’t been back since.”
Lo cackled over that one, patting Skipper’s back. “Good decision. Rick had interesting relations with a Mossad agent once. She-”
“Don’t tell that story, Lo. You’re getting old and senile.” What the hell’s wrong with her lately? “We don’t even whisper stories like that.”
Trish grabbed my arm. “C’mon, Hooterville. What the hell? You two dinosaurs have been around forever. Let Lo tell the story.”
“Absolutely not.” I was staring daggers at my partner to no avail.
“Let’s get out of here, get a few hours nap, and meet by the pool. I’ll oil the trolley’s rails with a few Bushmills. He won’t even notice when the story starts. Hell, Rick, if we don’t tell these stories sometime, we can’t even get a laugh out of the memory.”
“Write a book, Lo – to be opened after we’re dead.”
Lo gripped Trish’s arm, guiding her towards the door. “We’re going to have some fun by the pool, Skipper. We deserve it after the heavy lifting we did on this job.”
I followed them out, my hangdog look going unnoticed and unappreciated.
Chapter Eleven
Memories
October in southern California can be some of the best weather all year. Today was no exception, and the Ritz rooftop pool area a fantasy land of lavish design and accouterments. We slept until noon time, among other things, and then splurged on bathing suits for the pool. Trish picked out a burgundy bikini I thought dreams were made of. Nothing could be done about the bandage except I did make it just enough to cover her wound. She elbowed me as we walked out onto the beautiful pool deck while I was looking around for the best spot to host a little get together with Lois and Frank.
“Damn, Rick, I should have made you wear a burka. You look too good. I don’t like the way you’re getting ogled by the pool bunnies.”
I noticed. “It’s nothing. Those girls have a grandpa complex. There are plenty of strappi
ng young men out here checking you out, and I didn’t elbow you.”
Trish chuckled and took my arm. “Okay, fair enough. There’s Lo and Frank waving at us. They got a cabana. I like it.”
“Yep, Lo always goes first class on my dime. I’m not complaining though. She brought a bottle of Bushmills with her. That’s all I care about.”
“All I care about is sipping and hearing the adventures of young Lois and Rick.”
This wasn’t a game. “Remember how you handled the attempt of someone to drop a hit on a Mossad agent in your lap? That’s how I feel about old adventures. They can come back to haunt you.”
“I can already tell, Rick’s giving you the lecture about loose lips sink ships bullshit,” Lo said right off. “Our stories are so damn out of date, no one gives a crap anymore. Sit down Hooterville and have a drink.”
“Hi Frank. How many has she had already, brother?”
“Too many,” Frank replied, waving off the look of the Gorgon without turning to stone. “I know you could drink my ass under the table on the best day I ever had, hon, but Rick’s probably right about storytelling in your old profession.”
“Thanks, brother.” At least Frank had some sense.
Frank smiled. “On the other hand I would love to hear them. She never shared shit with me before.”
Trish clapped her hands, and Lo cackled, the dynamic duo of annoying. I shut up and sipped. Nothing was going to ruin this time in a setting like the Ritz pool for me. Lo didn’t start in on me right away. They had a wonderful audio system piped through. At the moment, it was playing Bocelli’s Nessun Dorma. Bocelli even managed to shut Lo up. I leaned back happily. Trish slid over next to me, her hand resting on my thigh. If only the song wouldn’t end to release the Gorgon, but indeed, all good things must end.
“Skipper, you ever see any of those NCIS TV episodes with the ex Mossad agent Ziva?”
I groaned and poured my second double, knowing where this was going.
Trish brightened right up, clutching my hand not involved in tilting my drink. “Sure. She left the show for some reason. I’m getting anxious, Lo. You wouldn’t be drawing this intro out just to pork me, would you?”
Lo grinned. “Nope. I just wanted you to get a mind’s eye picture of what the lovely Mossad agent we dealt with looked like. She was a smokin’ hot duplicate of Ziva without the attitude they dumped on the show’s character. Adina could be anything to anybody in a heartbeat. Rick and I were stationed in France at the time. I worked out of our embassy, so Frank was with me for that time, and it was wonderful.”
“I remember Paris back then with you.” Frank had the look of memory remembered on his face. “There were some rough times when you had doubts about everything.”
“Not about those times we spent, babe,” Lo replied. “Remember the river trip we took down the Seine? God, we were so young.”
I watched Trish, because I didn’t want to interrupt a moment without me in it. Trish wasn’t impatient for Cantelli tales. She watched Lo and Frank exchange glances with intensity.
“Yeah, we were,” Frank replied in a whisper. “The danger made you into the most exciting woman in the world. When you could take a moment away, it was magic.”
Lo stared at Frank, while reaching over to grasp his hand. “It’s no wonder you love Casablanca Night. I bet it makes you remember Europe back then.”
Frank nodded. “It does – not the same era, but a hell of a lot of fun. Go on with your story, Lo.”
“Not necessary,” I immediately interjected. “I like where you’re cruising right now.”
Lo patted Frank’s hand… and… my part in this cut to the front of the line. “Rick was a big, hunk of US Navy Seal, with unarmed combat expertise including the title of Navy heavyweight boxing champ. On top of all that action for ten years in the Seals, he was their team’s sniper. That is a darkness no one explores. When I recruited him after the Grenada invasion, he was ripe for the plucking. The Seals trained their asses off, but action was sparse. He was with Seal Team Four back then. Rick and a few of his buddies went off grid by accident, so they claimed. They wiped out a Cuban company preparing the beach for defense.”
“Did not.”
Lo ignored me with a short wave. “I had been posted earlier as a teacher at the university. We gathered intel pre-invasion. We heard rumor about a rogue op done by members of Seal Team Four, but denied in all reports. I went to investigate the guys when the whole thing ended, not officially, just as my job description read at the time. I recruited when I could from the special-forces’ units. Rick had been in almost ten years. They were all killers, but something about Rick caught my eye. He was bored. I’m sure every one of those guys was ready to go back in if needed. I could tell in his face, Rick wanted to launch his own war. I pulled him aside, and gave him the recruitment speech, along with my card. I saw in his face he was mine. He lit up the training like I figured, and I pushed for him as a partner.”
Lo paused, enjoying the break with Bushmills’ refreshment. I could tell both Frank and Trish were enthralled with Lo’s intro. Me… not so much. I remembered that day with her pulling me aside with that snide know-it-all look. I was in deep trouble over something that needed to be done. I was on someone’s shit list, which became apparent when we returned to the states. Lo gave me a way out, but without leaving the action. I took it. Trish had my hand in a vice grip, so I guess she was enjoying this. Frank refilled my cup for me… my brother.
“Anyway, Rick and I got to know each other. We did well in Bogata, and a few other hot spots. For a reward, we landed the stint in France. Rick was okay with it, but while Frank and I were enjoying the time to the max, Rick was getting bored again. It made me antsy just watching the cluck twaddle around doing ground work better left to old operatives or trainees.”
Lo took a moment, downed a bit of Bushmills, a slight smile spreading on her face. “Then we got orders to work with a Mossad team gathering intel inside the growing Muslim population in Paris about the Iran/Iraq war which was raging. We should have let them exterminate each other… anyway, we touched base with the Israeli team to find out what they needed from us. They were professional, highly motivated, and I could tell… deadly.”
“We were to provide intel and backup for an operation where the woman we knew only as Adina would infiltrate the bar/coffee house catering mainly to the Middle Eastern immigrants. What happened was funny in a way. Adina was proficient, but also beautiful. She worked her way in without any problem, actually getting a job there as a waitress. An element of half a dozen thugs we suspected as transients recruiting money and men began showing up there. They abused Adina for being a slut, but at the same time tried to get her as their private whore. She played it beautifully. Rick, who was assigned by her handler to frequent the bar, spotted a guy that wasn’t playing with Adina. Tell ‘em, Rick.”
No way, no how. I could feel the blood boiling even thinking about it now. “You’re on your own, Lo. I’m not enabling today under any circumstances. The only reason the Mossad brought us into the operation at all was for cover.”
“Fine… Hooterville. I’m telling it anyway. Rick convinces me to look into this guy. He’s bad news… on Interpol’s list… and the Mossad laugh us off. They didn’t laugh, but they did the look of concerned interest, and then ignored all the info we gave them. Adina liked Rick though. He gave a very thorough and convincing presentation to sway the Israelis to take this whole thing more seriously. I saw right away, Adina was ignoring everything of a professional nature, but she wanted Rick in the very biblical way. Rick, however was trying to bond with her partner, an arrogant asshole named Yuri.”
“Jesus, Lo! This stuff is boring. Yuri wasn’t an asshole, and Adina was a professional. At least tell the damn story truthfully.”
Then Lo smiled in a way that sent goose bumps scurrying everywhere on my body. “What Hooterville didn’t know was we had a team I called in to watch as a secondary fail safe. It was no big deal until
the asshole, Saib Boulos, enticed Adina aside near the back exit, we later learned with supposed intelligence about weapons transfers. He drugged Ms. Professional with a syringe, and headed out the exit with her. Rick had broken protocol, and was near the takedown. Rick followed Saib out and broke his neck. Then I picked them up in the alleyway, Rick loaded the body in our trunk and away we went, with Adina’s handler cutting into our com grid cursing the shit out of us. It seems the handler, Yuri, had planned following Saib to where he took Adina without bothering to inform anyone. The thugs never knew what the hell happened to Saib, but you can bet they suspected the lovely Adina.”
“Shit, Lo! You just broke about ten different disclosure agreements. What the hell?”
“Don’t go sissy on me, Rick. Adina would have been toast without us. The story wouldn’t make sense without my very accurate assessment of what went down.” Lo started cracking up, clapping her hands and the whole works. “Then… then we took the slowly cognizant Adina to her handler’s room, and he went off on us. Yuri wanted a piece. What was it he said… ah…”
Yuri took a bite I didn’t like. “You pussy Americans screw up everything!”
“And then Rick clocked him. He got him a dial tone the boy didn’t wake up from for about twenty minutes. By then Adina woke up completely in horror, thinking she was waking in an enemy abode. We kept our distance while assuring her we were friends. I related the evening’s events to her. She advised we leave before Yuri woke up. I agreed and dragged Rick out of there. She hugged Rick though.”
“She said thank you. Good story, Lo. Let’s kick back, sip, and talk about present day events. Lo and Trish are out of control, Frank. I’ve disrupted the cosmic balance bringing these two together. First they barbeque an FBI agent and a tire wholesale partner. Then they throw grenades amongst four unwary victims. It was the stuff of nightmare, my brother.”
Unfortunately, by the time I finished, all three of them were laughing their asses off. Damn it!
After only a very short pause, Lo went on. “I went to check on Rick the next morning hours before he thought I would. Guess what? American and Israeli relations were in heated conference mode, complete with a very vocal Adina I could hear clearly through the door. Being the mothering type handler I walked away and gave the two the room for a couple more hours.”
Rick Cantelli, P.I. Deadly Liaisons (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 2) Page 15